“There’s a joy without canker or cark, There’s a pleasure eternally new; ’Tis to gloat on the glaze and the mark Of china that’s ancient and blue, Unchipped all the centuries through, It has passed, since the chime of it rang, And they fashioned it, figure and hue, In the reign of the Emperor Hwang.” We should be less than human if we did not point the moral by quoting the delicious sentences of a City man (one can hardly imagine Charles Lamb a City man journeying daily to Leadenhall Street!) concerning— “Those little, lawless, azure-tinctured grotesques that, under the notion of men and women, float about, uncircumscribed by any element, in that world before perspective—a china teacup.... Here is a young and courtly mandarin handing tea to a lady from a salver—two miles off. See how distance seems to set off respect. And here the same lady, or another—for likeness is identity on teacups—is stepping into a little fairy boat, moored on the hither side of this calm garden river, with a dainty, mincing foot, which, in a right angle of incidence (as angles go in our world), must infallibly land her in the midst of a flowery mead—a furlong off on the other side of the same strange stream!” And now, having brought you thus far, reader, will you not journey with us and learn something of the magic and the mysteries of old china? We are a goodly company, and if you have a fine eye, a pretty fancy for your own taste, and a keen zest for a bargain, join hands with us. Derby holds a high place in the history of British porcelain, inasmuch as it was here that its manufacture was matured, and the ability and perseverance of three generations of the Duesbury family raised the productions to the level of those of the great European factories. It is generally believed that the manufacture of china first sprang into existence at Derby in 1750, about a year or so before the works at Worcester were established. There is a tradition that the first maker was a Frenchman, who lived in a small house in Lodge Lane, and who modelled and made small articles in china, principally animals—cats, dogs, lambs, sheep, &c.—which he fired in a pipemaker’s oven in the neighbourhood. About this time there were some pot works on Cockpit Hill belonging to Alderman Heath, a banker, and the productions of the Frenchman, probably a refugee, having attracted notice, an arrangement was made between him and Heath and Duesbury by which the manufacture of porcelain would be carried on jointly. This man’s name, to whom the absolute honour of commencing the Derby China Works belongs, was Andrew Planché. A deed exists by which a partnership for ten years was entered into by the three above named. Planché found the skill and secret knowledge, Heath the money (£1,000), and Duesbury the ability to carry out the scheme.